My Kind of Crazy
by serenelystrange
Summary: Random AU. Eliot's an ex-army man turned Thursday night bar country act. Parker's the bartender who gets under his skin. I wrote this in about 3 hours, so don't judge too harshly, please. Way AU. Hope you like! :


Here be AU! You have been warned.

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The rain drums down onto the roof, filling Eliot's room with the sound. He stretches and rolls to his side, pulling his girlfriend against him in a loose hug.

"I love the rain," he murmurs into her neck, pressing his lips to the lingering salty taste.

Sophie squirms, pulling away.

"Come on, sweetheart, you know I need space to sleep. And you may love the rain, but it keeps me awake."

Eliot suppresses a sigh and pulls his arm away, letting Sophie get comfortable on her side of the bed.

"I start that new gig tomorrow," he says aloud, a few minutes later, but he's only speaking to the darkness.

Sophie sleeps, graceful and still. Eliot reaches out and ghosts his fingers over her perfect face, trying to remember why he'd ever fallen in love. And why, even now, he can't seem to stop.

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"Alright folks, tonight we have a new act for you. Please welcome Eliot Spencer to our modest little stage."

The crowd chuckles and claps politely, halfheartedly turning their interest to the stage.

Eliot looks up from his seat on the stage, giving a small smile of gratitude to Nate, the owner of the hole in the wall coffee shop by day, bar by night.

"Hey," he says, simply, "I guess you would call this country music, but I promise not to twang too much. At least, I'll try."

He gives the audience a self deprecating smirk as he finishes tuning the guitar in his lap.

"This one if for a girl I used to know..."

.

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"He's not half bad," Hardison, the manager of the bar, says, moving to stand next to Parker, the bartender.

Parker shrugs, counting the night's tally so far, methodically.

"He's alright. Kinda mousy."

Hardison gives the singer an appraising glance, "He looks like he'd do fine in a fight, not gangly or anything."

"Hmm," Parker just hums, not really paying attention, "Whatever. Hopefully he gets people to buy drinks, then we'll all win."

"Cold as ice, mama," Hardison teases, swatting her behind with a bar rag as he makes his exist.

Parker looks up from her money briefly to glare, but there's a smile on her face.

The crowd starts up clapping, and her smile grows. Maybe the new guy will make her some money after all.

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Eliot goes over to the bar after his set, blushing slightly as a woman in her sixties swats at his ass along the way. He sits gratefully on one of the stools, distantly noticing he's the only one at the bar.

"Can I get beer?" he asks the blonde girl behind the bar, who is staring slightly scarily at the money in her hands.

"One sec," she says without looking up, as she finishes counting.

Finally she seems to deem the amount worthy and locks the money back up.

"Here ya go," she says, sliding the bottle to him.

Eliot catches it and gives her a grateful smile, "Thanks. How much?"

Blondie rolls her eyes, "You played tonight, you get a free drink."

"Oh," he replies, unsure of how to take that, "Thanks. I've never really played in front of people before."

"Well that explains it," Blondie says, grinning at him.

"What?" Eliot asks, giving her a wary look.

"Why you're so nervous and meek!" Blondie says, the 'duh' unspoken.

"I'm not meek," Eliot mumbles, taking a long sip from his beer.

"What was that?" Blondie teases, cupping a hand to her ear.

"What's your name?" Eliot asks, changing the subject.

Blondie scowls at the sudden switch, but answers anyway.

"They call me Parker."

This time Eliot smirks, "Is that actually your name?"

Parker just taps her finger against her lips, saying nothing.

"Alright," Eliot says, laughing, "I get it. Where's the fun in being straightforward, anyway?"

"Exactly," Parker says, smile actually reaching her eyes this time.

Eliot bites his lip to prevent what he was about to say, but Parker catches the motion.

"What is it?" she asks.

Eliot shrugs, "I do alright, tonight? I'd ask my girlfriend, but she's not here, and I'm afraid to go back near the woman who grabbed my ass. She was old enough to be my mother!"

Parker laughs, and Eliot catches himself grinning at the sound.

"You did good," she says, when she's finally done laughing, "Next time, just try to get them to drink more."

"Next time, huh?" Eliot grins.

"Bossman said you can play every Thursday if you want," Parker nods, "he didn't tell you?"

"I was getting to that," Nate says, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, "So, Spencer, you up for it? I can't promise you a lot of money, but the drinks are on the house."

"You had me at drinks," Eliot laughs, shaking Nate's hand firmly.

Nate nods before turning back to Parker.

"Gimme a scotch, princess," he leers playfully.

Parker just raises her eyebrows and pours the drink.

"Six bucks, bossman."

Nate just stares.

Parker stares back.

Eliot fidgets.

Finally Nate reaches for his wallet, only to roll his eyes when he finds his pocket empty.

"Dammit, Parker! How long this time?"

Parker grins, "Two hours, thirty minutes and," she pauses to count, "twenty seven seconds."

Eliot glances between the two of them, waiting for some sort of sense to be made of the conversation.

Parker reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a heavy brown wallet, handing it over to Nate.

"Our sweet little bartender has the hands of a master thief," Nate explains, as if it's not uncommon to have a pickpocketing criminal in charge of your money and alcohol.

"Umm," Eliot says, at a loss.

Nate just waves as he walks away with his drink, leaving Parker still grinning and Eliot looking more and more confused.

"Don't worry," Parker soothes him, "I always give the wallets back. Unless the asshole I take it from grabs my ass. Or tits. Or really, any body part I didn't give him specific permission to."

After a long moment, Eliot nods.

"Fair enough."

"Yeah?" Parker says, daring him with her eyes to disagree.

"Definitely," he replies, unable to keep from smiling at the quirky girl.

"Good," she says, reaching into her shirt, "Then you can have this back."

She dangles Eliot's wallet from her fingers.

He just stares for a moment, before grabbing the wallet and putting it back in his pocket.

"I probably should have expected that."

Parker just laughs.

"I should go," Eliot says, noting the clock, "My girlfriend will be waiting."

"Why didn't she come to your set?" Parker asks, as she begins straightening up the bar.

Eliot shrugs, "Country music's not really her thing."

"Oh," Parker says, knowing now is not the time to call someone's girlfriend an nonsupporting bitch. "Well, maybe next week," she says instead.

"Yeah, maybe," Eliot agrees as he stands, but they both know it's not true.

"There's always ass-grabby lady!" Parker teases with a smile.

Eliot laughs, "There is that. See you next week, Miss Parker."

Parker smiles and shoos him away, looking pointedly at the clock.

Eliot leaves with a smile still on his face.

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"You home, Soph?" Eliot calls out as he walks in, locking the door behind him.

"In here!" Sophie calls back from the bedroom.

Eliot follows the sound, happy mood making him mellow.

Sophie's sitting at the vanity, meticulously tweezing her eyebrows.

"This one stubborn hair refuses to come out," she complains, glaring into the mirror.

Eliot chuckles, "Just leave it baby, nobody even looks at eyebrows."

Sophie ignores him in favor of continuing to glare at the mirror.

"Seriously," Eliot says, moving to stand behind her, rubbing her shoulders gently, "You're gorgeous, Soph."

"Yeah?" she looks up, placing the tweezers down.

"Prettier than the day I met you," Eliot says, solemnly, but with mirth in his eyes.

"Hmm," Sophie closes her eyes, thinking back, "I looked amazing the day we met."

"I remember," Eliot murmurs, trailing his hands down Sophie's back.

Sophie smiles, leaning her head back against Eliot's chest.

"Come to bed," Eliot beckons, pulling her chair back for her smoothly.

"I'm not tired."

Eliot grins, "Me either."

Sophie stands and turns, a look of playful determination in her eyes.

"I'll fix that, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Eliot just keeps on grinning as Sophie leads the way.

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When Eliot enters "Nate's Place" the following Thursday, he's surprised to hear the sound of upbeat piano music being played. He looks up to the stage and sees a blonde guy about his age, dancing along to the music he's playing, looking for all the world like there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

And then he starts singing.

Eliot closes his eyes for a moment, letting the guy's raspy voice wash over him, singing about love lost, but not forgotten.

Suddenly, Eliot is struck dumb. This. This is what he wants. Not the piano player, but his calmness, the utter serenity of being lost in the music.

The blonde finishes up and gives a quick wave and thank you to the crowd before disappearing somewhere in the back of the bar.

Eliot finds himself staring after the man, enviously, and wondering if he'll ever be that comfortable on the stage.

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"He's good," Parker says, appearing next to him suddenly.

"Yeah," Eliot says, agreeing, "What's his name?"

Parker shrugs, "No idea. He's never been here before, I missed the intro. Hardison thinks it's Kressley or something."

Eliot's brow furrows, "Isn't that the one guy from that Queer Eye show?"

Parker just grins.

"My girlfriend watches it!" Eliot defends, "She keeps threatening to call them if I don't get better clothes."

Parker stares at his outfit for a long moment; broken in jeans and a simple blue button up.

"Looks fine to me," she says, shrugging, "Clothes are overrated anyway."

Eliot chokes, he coughs so hard.

Parker gives him the impish grin he's already growing to expect, "Have a good set, come see me for a drink after."

And then she's gone, leaving Eliot with the image of a naked bartender filling his thoughts.

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"So, did you always want to be a singer?" Parker asks after the set, ignoring the clean up she should be doing.

Eliot shakes his head, still sipping his beer, before answering.

"Nah. Well, maybe. But it just never worked out."

Parker leans forward on the bar, silently urging the story forward.

"I grew up in the South," he begins.

"I would never have guessed," Parker says, dryly, "What with the accent and the 'ma'am's' and the honest to God cowboy boots."

"Shut up," Eliot replies, kindly, "And let me finish my story."

Parker rolls her eyes but quiets down.

"Anyway," Eliot continues, "I grew up in the South. Nice town, good family, nothing too crazy. And then after graduation, I joined the army, like half the kids in my class."

"What happened?" Parker asks, brow furrowing.

"Fifteen years of my life happened," Eliot shrugs, "Fifteen years of acting without thinking for myself, of acting on orders. Fifteen years. It wasn't so bad, until 9/11 happened, then everything changed."

Parker nods, listening.

"Suddenly, it was like the world titled, and nothing made sense anymore. I saw things, in the years after that, that nobody should ever see. I did..."

"Hey," Parker interrupts, "It was your job. You didn't have a choice."

"That's the thing," Eliot says, quietly, "There's always a choice. But I couldn't see it, not until I was out."

"When..." Parker trails.

"Two years, next week," Eliot says, pulling the beer to his lips again, letting the sour taste give him something else to focus on.

Parker's quiet for a long minute, before giving him a small smile.

"At least you survived," she offers, placing her hands beside his on the bar, not quite touching.

"I was lucky," Eliot agrees, though his tone says he's anything but.

He laughs wryly as he continues, "When I got home, it was pouring. Cats and dogs. But I'll tell you what; after years of that damn dessert, I'd never been more happy to see the rain. I stood outside for hours. My momma had to come drag me in. I let her wrap a blanket around me, but I stayed by the window, just watching the rain."

Parker breathes out harshly, "I feel like we need something stronger than beer for this story."

Eliot smiles at her, small but honest, "I'd love to, but I got to go. Sophie's.."

"Waiting, right, I remember," Parker says, nodding, "Have a good night."

"Thanks for listening," Eliot says as he stands.

"Hazard of the job," Parker shrugs, gesturing to the bar.

"Still," Eliot replies, "I appreciate it. See you next week."

Parker stares at the door long after he's gone, head abuzz with thoughts.

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The next week, Parker's nowhere to be seen. Eliot looks to the bar, only to see a tall, friendly looking black guy pouring drinks and grinning at customers. He debates getting a drink anyway, but decides against it, knowing Sophie's waiting. At least, that's what he tells himself as he hoists the guitar over his shoulder and makes his way to the door.

Hardison watches him leave, feeling like he's unwittingly walked into the middle of a play. The only problem being, he isn't sure what anyone's roles are, or how the story ends. It unnerves him.

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"We should take a vacation somewhere," Eliot says, as he's making breakfast on Sunday morning.

Sophie looks up from her newspaper with interest.

"I can probably get a few days off work. You have vacation time to use? Where should we go?"

Eliot smiles, glad she likes the idea, "I have a few days, yeah. The store will survive without me. And I don't know, maybe just a weekend away at the beach or something. Just something simple and quiet."

Sophie nods, thinking, "I like it. I can get some sun, and ooh, maybe we can find a place with some little shops!"

Eliot laughs, "Shopping, got it. Maybe I'll give surfing a shot."

Sophie smirks, giving him a lingering look, "Hmm. My Eliot in a wetsuit. I like it."

"My Sophie in a bikini, _I_ like it," Eliot counters, "This is gonna be great."

Sophie grins, "I'll make some calls."

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Eliot looks out into the little crowd on Thursday, seeing some familiar faces. If he didn't know better, he's swear he might actually have a few fans. Even beyond the ass-grabby woman.

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Afterward, he moves towards the bar, happy to see the flash of blonde hair in the place of the tall man from last week.

Parker slides him his beer before he can even ask, and he nods in thanks.

"Didn't see you last week," he says, before he can stop himself.

Parker shrugs, "I called out, had plans."

"Oh," Eliot lets it drop.

"You're good for business," Parker blurts out, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Am I?" he asks, chuckling, "Pretty sure ass-grabby woman would be here anyway."

Parker rolls her eyes. "I mean it. There's at least seven regular customers on Thursdays now. Ok, so maybe they're mostly middle aged soccer moms with too much time on their hands, but they buy drink after drink. They're awesome. "

Eliot shakes his head and laughs, "There's something wrong with you."

"You know, I get that a lot," Parker says, but she's still smiling.

"Can't imagine why," Eliot teases, watching fondly as she begins to count the money.

Parker says nothing, but moves closer, counting out the bills beside him.

Eliot's never enjoyed silence so much.

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"You have a tan."

Eliot looks up at Parker's conversation starter.

"Hello to you, too, Parker. And yes, I have a tan. We went away to the beach this weekend."

"You and the girlfriend?" Parker asks.

"Sophie, yeah," Eliot nods, "We got back Monday."

"Did you have fun?"

Eliot nods, automatically, "Yeah, of course. She's great, it was great."

Parker just looks at him, hazel eyes big and sympathetic.

"Really, it was great," he insists, "Stop looking at me like that."

Parker shrugs.

"Ok, ok. As long as you're happy."

Eliot considers his answer for longer than he knows he should have to. But he arrives at the same conclusion.

"I'm happier with her than I would be without her."

Parker frowns, "Happier than you would be without her, specifically, or happier than you would be alone?"

Eliot can't answer that without delving too deeply into thoughts he refuses to acknowledge, so he just sips his beer and waits for Parker to change the subject.

Fortunately, she takes the hint.

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Piano man is back the next week, Eliot's taken to calling him Billy, for lack of a real name. He watches the man play for a few minutes, this time singing about some girl named Jamie. The crowd seems to know the song well, half of them are singing along cheerfully. Eliot shakes his head and grins. The elusive blonde gets more mysterious every time.

.

Later, Parker makes him a drink called Behind Blue Eyes. He half thinks she's mocking him, but the drink is good and her smile is genuine, so he keeps his thoughts to himself. Plus, he kind of likes the way she looks at him, as if she's actually listening. He tells himself that it's just part of her job, but his mouth isn't listening to his brain, and insists on keeping the smile on his face. After a while, his brain surrenders, and he just goes with it.

He goes home late, tipsy and happy, glad he lives so close to the bar. Sophie's already asleep, and for once he's glad.

He sleeps like the dead and wakes up with a dull headache but half a smile still on his lips.

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The next week, Parker waits for Eliot to come back to the bar after the show, but he doesn't. His set had gone well, as usual. But now, he's nowhere in sight. Parker tells herself not to worry, that's he's just a customer, but she's never been good at following her own advice.

"Leave it alone, girl," Hardison says, coming out of the stock room.

"It's just strange," Parker frowns, "He always gets a drink."

"Someone's got a crush," Hardison teases.

Parker frowns again, "I don't... shut up, Hardison."

Hardison just rolls his eyes and walks away.

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The next week, Eliot doesn't show up at all. Parker demands Nate give her Eliot's address, but Nate doesn't have it.

"I'm worried," Parker admits to Hardison.

"You looove him," Hardison replies, jumping back just in time to avoid Parker's outreached hand.

"I'm serious here!" Parker sighs, "What if he's hurt or something?"

"Parker," Hardison says, seriously, "If he's not back next week, I'll help you track him down. He's probably just got a cold or something. Relax."

Parker nods, worrying her lip, "Yeah. You're probably right. Everyone gets colds. Ok."

Hardison pulls her into a quick hug, patting her reassuringly on the back. She smiles against his neck before pushing him away.

"Get to work, mister."

"Woman, I am _your_ boss, remember?"

Parker smiles, "You keep telling yourself that."

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When Eliot walks into the bar the next week, Parker lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. But when he refuses to meet her gaze, the worry flares up again.

Eliot makes it through the set, but without any of his usual enthusiasm or ribbing. The crowd claps all the same, but Parker knows something is off.

.

After the set, Eliot is out the door, guitar strapped to his back, before Parker can blink.

She looks to Hardison, who nods, once.

She grins and takes off, running out the door, apron abandoned on a bar stool along the way.

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"Eliot!" she calls out to the swiftly walking man.

He stops, a look of disbelief on his face.

"You're following me?"

Parker reaches him and catches her breath.

"Yes."

To her surprise, Eliot laughs.

"It's nice to hear the truth," he explains.

Parker feels like she missed something vital, but she can't figure it out.

"Sorry about not showing up last week," Eliot says, quietly, "I should have called Nate."

"Don't worry about it," Parker waves her hand, "Kressley filled in."

Eliot smirks, "Still don't know his name, huh?"

"Oh, I do," Parker replies, "I just like Kressley better."

.

Eliot laughs again, and Parker takes it as an opportunity to move a little closer. She cautiously places a hand on his shoulder, afraid he'll run off if she moves too fast.

"I'm not a horse, you know," Eliot teases her, "You don't have to be afraid I'll bolt."

Parker grins sheepishly, "Mind reader."

"Nah, you're just easy," Eliot replies, before turning bright red as he realizes what he said.

Parker just grins, "Only sometimes."

"Parker, I..."

Eliot begins but Parker cuts him off abruptly by pressing her lips to his.

He's kissing back in an instant, tugging her close, and Parker allows herself a few moments of happiness before pulling away.

"But.. Sophie..."

Eliot's expression clouds, "Sophie cheated on me. Has been, for months."

"Oh," Parker replies, torn between sympathy and joy.

"With a girl." Eliot continues, under his breath.

Parker can't help it, she bursts out laughing.

"Oh, shut up." Eliot says, glaring harmlessly.

Parker presses closer, "Make me."

He does.

,

,

The rain falls loudly later that night, splattering across Parker's moon roof impressively. Eliot watches it fall and create patters across the glass.

"Sleeping yet?" Parker asks, coming back from the bathroom.

Eliot shakes his head, "Just watching the rain."

Parker smiles as she crawls under the covers and tucks herself into Eliot's side, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

"I like the sound of the rain," she says, yawning, "It's soothing."

Eliot grins and places a kiss to Parker's temple before pulling the blanket over them.

"Just my kind of crazy."

.

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THE END

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Yeah, so, that happened. I don't even know. I literally just wrote this in like three hours, out of nowhere. Hope it didn't suck!


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